Y * 




^ * <r S 



.31.51... 
1833 



Author 



Title 



Imprint 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



0000^423345 








■^^1^^.^^ 



PROMPTER: 

A 

C M M E N T A R y 

ON 

C O M IM O N SAYINGS 

WHICH ARE FULL OF 

COMMON SENSE. 
THE BEST SENSE IN THE WORLD. 



BY 


NOAH WEBSTER, 


LL. 


D. 


♦To 


see all others' faults and ferl our owu 


5 


NEWPORT, N. H. 
PUBLISHED BY JOHN W!L 


CCJL 





18 3 3. 



A 






Entered according to Act of Congress in the 
year 1833, by NOAH WEBSTER, LL. D. in tha 
Clerk '3 OiRce of the Distnct Court of Connecti- 
cut. 



ytereolyped by 
COFAIN ANE ROBY, 



Concord, N. H. 



PREFACE. 



A Prompter is the man who, in plays, 
sits behind the scenes, looks over the re- 
hearser, and with a moderate voice, cor- 
rects him when wrong, or assists his recol- 
lection, when he forgets the next sentence. 
A Prompter then says but little, but that 
little is very necessary and often does much 
good. He helps the actors on the stage at 
a dead lift, and enables them to go forward 
with spirit and propriety. 

The writer of this little Book took it in- 
to his head to prompt the numerous actors 
upon the great theatre of life ; and he sin- 
cerely believes that his main motive was 
to do good. The Prompter's business is 
with ^e world at large, and the mass of 
mankind are concerned only with comtnon 



IV PnKFACE. 

things. A dish of high-seasoned turtle is 
rarely found; it sometiilies occurs at a 
gentleman's table, and then the chance is, 
it produces a surfeit. But good solid roast 
beef "is a common dish for ail men ; it sits 
easy on the stomach ; it supports,it strength- 
ens and invigorates. Vulgar sayings and 
proverbs, so much despised by the literary 
epicures, the Chesterfields of the age, are 
the roast beef of science. They con- 
tain the experienae, the wisdom of nations 
and ages, compressed into the compass of 
a nut-shell. To crack the shell and ex- 
tract the contents to feed those who have 
appetites, is the aim of this little book. 

There is nothing new in the iield of 
knowledge. Every thing that a vrriter 
can now say, has been said before, times 
without number, But the manner of tel- 
ling truths, may be almost intinitely diver- 
sified, and he whose manner of writing 
takes most general and effectual hold oif 
the human mind, will be the most use- 
ful writer. All a writer can now do is to 
vary his style, so as to make common 
things appear new ; and this is all the 
Prompter has attempted. 



CONTENTS. 



No. 

1. A bellows. 

2. Green wood will last longer than dry. 

3. A Nose. 

4. The Under-Lip. 

6. Every one to his notion. 

6. He does not work it right. 

7. It will do for the present. 

8. It will do for the present. Part 2d. 
9 & 10. How should I wnrk it? 

11. It is better to borrow than to buy. 

12. Come, we'll take the other sip. 

13 & 14. Any other lime will do as well. 

15. When a man's name is up, he may lie 
abed till noon. 

16. What is every body's business is nobo- 
dy's. 

17. When a man is going down hill every 
one gives him a kick. 

18. I told you 60. 



19. 



CONTEi>T». 

C Carpe diem. 

I Take time by the forelock. 

20. She carries the bell. 

21. He is sowing his wild oats. 

22. He would have his own way. 

23. If I was he. 

24. A stitch in time saves nine. 

25. He has come out at the little end of 
the horn. 

26. Stolen waters are sweet. 

27. Tell us a story ? 



PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 1. 

A Bellows. 

A Bellows 13 a very useless piece of 
household furniture 1 The Blacksmith and 
the Silversmith must have a Bellows ; but 
in a family there \i no need of a Bellows, 
Dr. Franklin has said, time is money. The 
Prompter says, common sense is money. 
If wood is so laid upon the hearth, that it 
will not burn without blowing, the man 
who lays it, is not the wiser for experience, 
nor has he improved by facts within his 
daily observation. 

My friend, Jack Lounger, puts his coals 
and brands on the hearth, and piles green 
wcod above ; then goes to work with the., 
bellows. He blows till the room is full of 
smoke ; he makes a little blaze ; then stops ; 
the blaze subsides; then he plies the >. 1- 



8 TttiB PROMPTER. 

lows, till he ia quite vexed ; the fire fakes 
its own time ; nature will not be hurried. 

Bii.L,Y Trim, with the same advantages 
for improvement, has attended more to the 
principles of nature. He lays a fore-stick 
near the log or back stick, but not con- 
tiguous to it; he places the brands of fire 
and large coals on the top, leaving small 
openings of half an inch or an inch, then 
lays dry wood loosely over the coals. The 
'^.shes below are removed; a current of air 
ascends ; the fire brightens and soon en- 
kindles into a tiame. . Billy Trim calls this 
'^Nature's Bellows:" every person can 
make it ; it costs nothing; common sense 
re money. 



THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 2. 

Green wood will last longer thari dry. 

So will straw for cattle last longer than 
hay. But the question is which will make 
the best fires and most heat. Ask the dis- 
tillcv ; the brick maker ; the potter ; these 
people will tell you that dry wood will 



THE PROMPTER. d 

inalie more heat, as well as give it more 
steadily thatt green. It is a slovenly prac- 
tice to burn green wood ; you lay a pile 
of green wood over the fire ; it will not 
burn ; you get kindlers, which make a 
blaze; you blow it with the bellows; it 
smokes; after half an hour's work, the 
juices of the wood are so far evaporated 
that the wood just begins to burn. For 
some time, you have a roasting fire. Then 
the fire decays, and the room being Vvcll 
heated, you neglect the fire, till a few 
coals only remain. Then you pile on 
another supply of green wood, which re- 
quires another half hour's labour, while 
you are freezing with cold. 

The Prompter says, burn dry Avood, ex- 
cept for logs ; put on but a stick or two at 
o;ice ; this will make a fire immediately, 
without a bellows and without troubl'e. 
As soon as the fire subsides, feed it again 
with a single stick ; thus keeping the air 
of your room of uniform temperature. 
This will heat your room better with less 
wood. 

Get your wood in winter; cut it up or 
saw it, and lay it in your wood-house. 
Then you will not be vexed for wood 
in summer, nor with smoking away the 
sap of green wood with bellows blowing. 



10 THE PROMPTKR. 

" But have no wood house." Then 
you want a very necessary bi||lfiiing. If 
you cannot cover your wood, be content 
to pile it in the open air, six months before 
burning. 



THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 3. 

A JYose. 

What of a JSTose ? Tristram Shandy has 
■jaid much of Noses, which I shall not re- 
peat. I was in company the other day, 
with a friend of mine who had been read- 
ing Lavater on Physiognomy. He was 
struck, it seems, with Lavater's remark 
that the JYose is the index of a man^s 
abilities. If the Nose grows from end to 
end in a line with the forehead, so that a 
line drawn from the forehead to the tip of 
the Nose, will strike the Nose at both ends, 
tt is said to be an infallible proof that the 
man who wears the Nose, has little gen- 
ius. But when the Nose peeps out of the 
nead close upon a line with the eyes, so 
that the line from the forehead to the tip of 



THE PROMPTER. 11 

the Nose leaves a deep hollow in the Nose 
between the eyes, there says Lavater is the 
index of genius. What of all this ? Noth- 
ing indeed ; but I am determined to take a 
trip to New Haven and examine the No?es 
of our Representatives. For logick says if 
the Nose on one man's face is an index of 
his genius ; the Noses of the Representa- 
tives of the State will furnish an index of 
the genius of the whole State. 

Gentle reader! It would amuse the 
Prompter to see thee, after reading this, 
take a peep in the glass at thy own JYose. 



THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 4. 

The Under -Lip, 

Most people think the lips are made 
merely to cover the teeth, and to kiss and 
be kissed. This is not true ; for they do 
not always cover the teeth ; in some faces 
a projecting tooth is the first thing that 
presents itself to view ; nor are lips always 
used for kissing, for some nations kiss the 
cheek or a hand or an ear. But to my 



12 THE PROMPTER. 

purpose : a lip, like Lavater's Nose may be 
an index of the mind. I pass over all kinds 
of lips, but the large, hanging, drivling 
Under-Lip. ■ This sort of lip savors of the 
drone. It is the enemy of all order, neat- 
ness and industry. 1 had rather have Ma- 
ry Magdalen's seven demons in the family, 
than one huge drivling Under-Lip. Nay, 
I would as soon employ a man, with Lav- 
ater's strait Nose, to make laws for the 
state, as a man or woman with a mons-, 
trous Under-Lip, to labour for me. Na- 
ture has been kind enough to hang out, 
upon every man's face, the sign of the 
commodities for market within. Then 
look at the sign before you make a bar- 
gain. 

Yet in avoiding the Lip of dullness, 
don't run against edge tools. A thin p^iiv 
of Lips, that make good joints, are usually 
wrought of good stuff, well tempered by 
nature, and honed to a razor's edge. Touch 
them and they cut. Look to that, gentle 
reader. 



THE PROMPTER. IS 

THE PROMPTER. 

NU3IBER 5. 

Every one to his notion. 

Most certainly ; and the Prompteu io 
his notion of course. If a man is a little 
odd in his way, his friends say he is a no- 
tional creature, ov full of notions. And 
where is the man or woman living, that is 
not full ofnotiojis. 

Love is the most notional passion; not 
excepting ambition and superstition. I 
once knew a woman, who had a very ami- 
able daughter, declare it was monstrous 
indelicate for a young- lady to love a man. 
She might love an elegant house, a car- 
riage, and even money : but to love a 
?nan's person was shocking. But eve7'y one 
to her notion. 

When I was a young man, I knew an at- 
torney who was attached to what is called 
family ; that is, whose family, by good 
luck, had stripped off their woolen shirts 
and checked aprons, just one generation 
before, and kept them off, till their com- 
panions who had associated with them in 
their woolen dress, were mostly dead. The 
attorney had not wore linen shirts 8o long 



14 THE PROMPTER 

by ten years as this family ; and yet had 
the assurance to fall in love with one of the 
daughters. The man however did not 
meet with cold looks from the daughter : 
but the parents walked a tip toe at the af- 
front offered their family. The daughter 
was notional as well as the parents: they 
intended to have their 7iotion, but she had 
hers : and a very good notion it was, for a 
more happy couple does not exist. 

But the queerest of all notions is, that 
parents will not permit a daughter, no nor 
even a son, to love for himself. I know a 
widow \wi^\ a family of likely daughters, 
who insists upon it that her daughters do 
not know how to love for themselves: she 
therefore will love for them. She is a 
queer woman, and a notional creature : but 
every one to his notion. 



THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 6. 

He does not work it right. 

What a vulgar saying the Prompter 
has selected for his text in this number ; 



THE PROMPTER 15 

Yet these vulgar sayings are often full ot 
good sense. 

I knew a young man who left the army 
with an invincible attachment to gambling. 
fie followed it closely till he had lost most 
of his wages ; he then purchased a shop of 
goods, mostly on credit : he had his night- 
ly frolicks : he kept it up ; he was a blood 
of the first rate ; his goods were soon gone 
and not paid for ; his creditors called and 
he began to shrug his shoulders ; in fact, 
he did not work it right. But his friends 
helped him out of six scrapes, yes out of 
seven. At length necessity broke his spir- 
it ; it tamed him ; he married ; became a 
man of business; recovered his lost cred- 
it ; and now he works it right. 

I often say to myself, as I ride about the 
country, what a pity it is our farmers do 
not work it right. When I see a man turn 
his cattle into the street to run at large and 
waste their dung, during a winter's day, I 
say this man does not work it right. Ten 
loads of good manure at least, are lost in a 
season by this slovenly :^actice ; and all 
for what ? For nothing indeed, but to ruin 
a farm. 

So when I see cattle, late in the fall or 
early in the spring, rambling in a meadow 



IS TUK PROMPTER. 

or mowing field, poaching the soil and 
breaking the grass roots, I say to myself, 
this man does not work it right. 

So when I see a harn-yard with a drain 
eading into the highway, I say the owner 
does not work it right ; for how easy it is 
to make a yard hollow, or lowest in the 
middle, to receive all the wash of the sides, 
which will he thus kept dry for the cattle. 
The wash of the yard, mixed with any 
kind of earth, or straw, is the best manure 
in the world; yet how much do our far- 
mers lose 1 In fact, they do not work it 
right. 

" When I pass along the road and see a 
house with the clap-hoards hanging an end 
by one nail, and old hats and cloths stuffed 
into the broken windows, and the fences 
tumbling down or destroj'^ed, I conclude 
the owner loves rum and brandy; in truth 
he does not work it right. 

When I see a man frequently attending 
courts, I suspect he does not loorh it right. 

When I see a countryman often go to 
the retailers with a bottle, or the laboring 
man carrying home a bottle of rum, after 
his work is done on Siiturday-night, I am 
certain the man does not work it right. 

When a farmer divides a farm of 100 
acres of land among five or six sons, and 



THE PROMPTER. 



17 



builds a small house for each and sets them 
to work for a living on a little patch of 
land, I question whether he icorksit right. 
And when these sons are afterwards unable 
to live on these mutilated farms, and are 
compelled by a host of children, to go to 
work by the day to get hread, I believe 
they are all convinced that they have not 
worked it right. 

When a rnan tells me his wife will not 
consent to go from home into new settle- 
ments, where he may have land enough 
and live. like a nabob, and therefore he is 
obliged to sit down on a corner of his fa- 
ther's farm, I laugh at him, and some time 
or other he will own, he has not worked it 
right. 

A man in trade who is not punctual in 
his payments, certainly does not ivork it 
right ; nor does the man, who trusts his 
goods to any body and every body. 

Whether in Congress or a kitchen, the 
person who talks much is little regarded. 
Some members of Congress then certainly 
do not work it right. A hint to the ivise 
is sufficient; but twenty hints have not 
been sufficient to silence the clamorous 
tongues of some congressional spouters. 

Family government gives complexion 
to the manners of a town ; but when we 
2 



13 THE rnOilPTER. 

see, every where, chiklrcn profane, indeli- 
cate, rude, saucy, we may depend on it 
their jiurents do not work it right. 

I once knew a young man of excellent 
hopes, who was deeply in love with a la- 
dy ; The first time he had an opportunity 
to whisper in her ear, and before he hud 
ma-e any impression on her heart in his 
favor*, he sighed out his sorrowful tale to 
her, in full explanation : the lady was 
frightened ; she soon rid herself of the dis- 
tressed lover ; s5ie said he did not icork it 
risht. 



THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 7. 

It will do for ike present. 

This common saying does as much mis- 
chief in society as rtimov ix ]'>(■' stilcncc. If 
I hear a man, whether a farmer, aracchan- 
ick, or any other person, often repeat that 
saying and-appcar to act from the opinion, 
that it will do for the present, I rely on it 
he IS a sloven, a drone o something worse. 
I never knew such a m^ to thrive. 



THE PROMPTEH. 



19 



A young man setting out in life, is in 
ha5teto be married. He wants a house to 
live in, but is not fully able to build one. 
Yet his pride requires a large showy house. 
At last, between poverty and pride, he de- 
termines to build a large house, but not to 
finislr it till he is 7hore able. He sets up a 
large two story house, with four rooms in 
a story; he covers it and paints it. This 
is a showy house-; his pride exults to see 
passengers stare at his elegant house. But 
though pride governs the outside, poverty 
reigns within ; he can finish but two rooms, 
half finish one or two more; and lay a 
loose floor above, to spread his corn upon. 
This elegant mansion house then is a gra- 
nary ; a corn-house. The man and a litter 
of children below ; and rats and mice 
above. But the man says itvAll do for the 
jiresent. True, but the man has but 20 or 
30 acres of land, or an indifTeient trade ; 
his family grows faster than his income ; 
he is not able to tinish his house. The cov- 
ering soon decays and admits water; the 
house falls to pieces; the man is forced 
poor into the wilderness, or he and his 
children loiter alout, dependent on their 
neighbors for subsistence by day labor. 

I know one of these do-for-the-present 
farmers who never effectually repairs his 



20 THE PROMPTEn. 

fences ; but when a breach is made, he fills 
it with a bush that a sheep may remove ; 
if a rail is broke, and another is not at 
hand, he takes the next billet of wood, in- 
serts one end in the post and ties up the 
other with elm or hickory bark; he says, 
this ivill do for the present. His cattle 
learn to be unruly; to remedy the evil, 
fetters, shackles, clogs, yokes and what he 
callsj^oATS are invented ; and his cattle and 
horses are doomed to hobble about their 
pasture, with a hundred weight of wood or 
iron machines upon their feet and necks. 
The man himself in two years spends time 
enough in patching up his fences and mak- 
ing shackles, to make a good effectual 
fence round his whole farm, which would 
want very little repairing in -twenty years. 
In family affairs, these do-for-the-pres- 
ejit-folks double their necessary labor : 
They labor hard to put things out of order, 
and then it requires nearly the same work 
to put them into order again. A man uses 
an axe, a hoe, a spade, and throws it down 
where he uses it ; instead of putting it in 
its proper place under cover. Exposed to 
the weather, tools do not last more than 
half so long, as when kept housed ; but 
this is not ali: a sloven leaves the tool 
where he last .used it ; or throws it down 



THE PROMPTER. 21 

any where at random : in a few days he 
wants it again ; he has forgot where he 
left it ; he goes to look for it : he spends 
perhaps half an hour in search of it, or 
walks a distance to get it ; this time is lost, 
for it breaks in upon some other business. 
The loss of this small portion of time ap- 
pears trifling ; but slovens and sluts incur 
such losses every day ,• and the loss of 
these little scraps of time determines a 
man's fortune. Let the Prompter make a 
little calculation. A farmer, whose fami- 
ly expends four hundred dollars a year, if 
he can clear forty dollars a year, is a 
thriving man. In order to get this mon- 
ey suppose he labors ten hours in a day : 
in this case if he loses an hour every day, 
in repairing the carelessness of the day be- 
fore, (and every sloven and every slut 
looses more time than this, every day, for 
v/antof care and order) he looses a tenth 
part of his time ; a tenth part of his in- 
come. Such a man cannot thrive ; he 
must grow poorer, for want of care, of or- 
der, of method. 

So it is with a woman. A neat woman 
who does business thoroughly, keeps things 
iti order with about half the labor that a 
slut employs who keeps things forever out 
of order. If a pail or a kettle is used, it 



23 



THE PROMPTER. 



is directly made clean, fit for other uses 
and put in its place. When it is wanted, 
it is ready. But a slut uses an article and 
leaves it any where, dirty, unfit for use 
another time: by and by it is wanted and 
cannot be found, " Moll, where did you 
leave the kettle ?" " I han't had the ket- 
tle ; Nab had it last." " Nab did you 
have the kettle?" "Yes, but it is dirty." 
So the kettle is found, but it is a half hour's 
woik to fit it for the purpose required ; in 
the meantime, the necessary business must 
be delayed. Yet this woman says, when 
she does any thing, it will do for the jrrcs- 
eiit. 



THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 8. 

It will do for the present. — Part 2d. 

Custom, with an iron rod, rules four 
fifths of mankind. My /a^/ier planted corn 
in a certain piece of land ; it answered 
well ; I do the same, though it does not 
answer well. My neighbor such a one 
tells me I had better try a change of crops. 



THE PROMPTER. 23 

deep plou2,hing or sowing- turneps or c?o- 
vcr ; it may be the land will recruit. But 
my neighbor is notional and fond of new 
tilings} I do not like projects. My fa- 
ther did so before me, and- it docs for the 
■present. 

So says the Virginian Planter ; he has 
raised tobacco on a field, until the soil is ex- 
hausted ; he knows not how to fertilize the 
land again ; his only resource is to clear a 
new spot and take benefit of nature's ma- 
nure. T/iis does for the present. But 
when his land is all impoverished, what 
will he do ? Go to Kentucky or Mississippi, 
as the New-England men to Genesee or 
Ohio. Bat when the western •.>7orId is all 
peopled, what will our do for (he present 
folks do for good land ? The answer is easy; 
necessity will compel them to use common 
sense ; and comaiou sense will soon make 
old poor land rich again. Y/hen farmers 
learn to twork it right, they will keep it 
good, for the Prompter ventures to assert, . 
that a proper tillage will forever keep land 
good. How does nature work it ? Why 
nature covers land with herbage ; that 
herbage withers and rots upon the land ; 
and gradually forms a rich black mould. 
But farmers when they have used land till 
it will bear no crops, let it lie without feed- 



24 



THE PROMPTER. 



ing it. No herbage grows on the land, till 
weeds and a little grass creep in by chance ; 
after three or four years, the farmer plows 
it for a crop and has a job at killing weeds. 
Surely the man does not icork it right ; but 
he says, this will do for the present. 

I will close with the following short, 
but pertinent letter, which I have lately 
'•• '^ived from an unknown hand. 

To TiiK Prompter. 

liv your last number, do you mean 7Jie? 
A. B. 
To A. B. 
Sir, 

I do, and all that are like you between 
A and Z, and you have not on earth a bet- 
ter friend than the 

Prompter. 



Sir, 



THE PROMPTER 25 

THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 9. 

JTo THE Prompter. 

Hoiv should I work it ? 

A. Z. 

According to what is to be done. If 
you would do a great deal and do it well, 
write in large letters and paste up over 
the fire place of your keeping-room, the 
following maxim of the great De Wit, 
Pensionary of Holland, do one thing 

ONLY AT A TIME. 

Are you a farmer ? keep each kind of 
work, as much as possible by itself. Don't 
run to half a dozen fields in a day and 
work a little in each ; unless necessity 
obliges you to do it. That work which 
may be done at any time, should be done 
in winter or when you have leisure. Get 
wood in winter and cover it ; if I see a 
man, in midst of harvest, forced to go af- 
ter a load of wood, I am sure he has not 
worked it right. Keep a complete set of 
instruments or tools. When I see a man 
running to one neighbor after a fan, and to 
another after a shovel, I set'him down, not 
only as poor, but as doomed to be poor. 



26 tux: PKOMPTEa. 

His neighbor's fan or his shovel will do far 
the present, but the occasions for them oc- 
cur often, and how much time and labor 
are lost in goina; after them ! If you would 
work to advantage keep a co(|(^)lete set of 
utensils for your business ; keep them hous- 
ed, that they may last lonii; ; and in their 
place, that you may easily find them. 

Do not run in debt to buy land. Land 
will not generally support a family, and 
pay taxes and interest on its value. If 
^you have but a small piece of land, culti- 
' vate it well, make it produce as much as 
possible, and if you can get more than will 
maintain you from this little farm, lay out 
the surplus in buying more. If you can- 
not get more than a subsistence, it is time 
to think of lessening expenses, or selling 
out and buying new land. Depend on it, 
fari^rs who pay interest, do not work it 
ri^U't. 

Never do ■ work to the halves. If you 
build a house or a barn, Jay a plan that is 
within vour power and then finish what 
you begin. For want of the Za&fhalf, the 
first isoftcn totally lost. 



Sm, 



THE PROMPT I:R. 27 

THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 10. 

*To THE Prompter. 
How should I work it ? 



Are you a parent ? Then you have a 
hard task to be both the friend and the 
master of your children ; and if you are 
not both, you do not work it right. Some- 
times yoii are the fond indulgent parent ; 
nothing is too good for the darling ; he 
Riay pout ind strike, or kick over the tea- 
kettle, cups and glasses ; and you tvould 
just moderately say, " why Billy, hov/ you 
behave ; that is not pretty ; 1 shan't love 
you for that." At other times you are in 
a pet, and the child by accident in mere 
play, or in attempting to drink, lets fall a 
tumbler, or a tea cup ; you fly at h^m. and 
fail on him like a mastif, and cufT his ears 
and shake him to a jelly. In ih& first case 
you are the iceak silly dupe of your child ; 
in the last, you are the tyrant, thus you 
do not work it right. Hear what the 
Prompter says ; Never strike your child 
in a passion ; never punish him for acci- 
defital mischief; never fail to punish him 



28 THE PROMPTER. 

for ohstinate disobedience or willful mis- 
chief; and, a word to you in particular, 
when you have real cause to correct him, 
never cease, till his temper gives way, and 
he becomes really submissive.*^ A blow or 
two only raises his anger and increases 
willful obstinacy ; if you quit him then, 
you do hurt rather than good ; you make 
your child worse. But if you continue to 
apply the rod, till his mind bends and soft- 
ens down into humble supplication, believe 
me, that child will rarely or never want a 
second correction ; the Prompter has tried 
it in repeated instances. 

But, say some people, the rod should be 
sparingly used. True, but as most people 
use it, one correction only makes way for 
another, and frequent whippings harden 
the child, till they have no effect. Now 
mind the Prompter ; two sitnple rules, if 
observed, will prevent this. 1st. JVever 
punish a child, when he does not desei've 
it ; 2d. When he does deserve it, make the 
first punishment effectuai.. If you 
strike a child for accidental mischief, or 
for what he does ignorantly or in good 
humor, the child is not conscious he has 
done wrong ; he is grieved at first ; if such 
punishmenUs frequent, it excites indigna- 
tion ; he is angry with his parent and thinks 



THE rR03IPTEK. 



29 



him cruel ; then correction does more hurt 
than good, 

I sincerely believe that nine times out of 
ten, the bad conduct of children is owing 
to parents ; yet parents father most of it 
upon Adam and the Devil. 

Parents then do not workit right ; They 
work it thus ; A child .wants an apple ; 
and a child is governed by ajopetite, not 
by reason ; the parent says he must not have 
it ; but he says it with a simple unmeaning 
tone of voice, that makes no impression on 
the child ; the child cries for the apple ; 
the parent is angry, and tells him, he 
shan't have the apple ; the child bawls: and 
perhaps strikes his little brother, or throws 
down a glass in anger ; at last the parent is 
tired with the noise and to appease the child, 
gives him the apple. Does this pai'ent work 
it right ? So far from it that he loses the 
little authority he had over the ihild ; the 
order of things is changing ; the child is 
the master ; and when the child has been 
master a few months, you may as well 
break his neck, as his icill. A thousand la- 
shes on a young master^s back, will not do 
so much as one . decisive conunand, before 
he becomes master of his parents. 

Now listen to my advice ; a child does 
not regard so much what a parent says, as 



30 



THE PROMPTER. 



7ww he says it. A child looks at his pa- 
rent's eye, when he speaks ; and there he 
reads intuitively what his parent means 
and how ?nuch he means. If a paren* 
speaks with an air of indifference, rcith 
out emphans, or looks another way when 
he speaks, the child pays little or no regard 
to what he says. (I speak of a young- child 
over whom a parent has not yet established 
an authority.) But if a parent, when he 
commands a child to do or not to do, looks 
at him with the eye of command, and 
speaks with a tone and air of decision and 
authority, the child is impressed with this 
manner of commanding, and will seldom 
venture to disobey. A steady uniform au- 
thority of this kind, which never varies 
from its purpose, which never gives way to 
the caprices or appetites of children, which 
carries every commz^ndi i7ito effect, will 
prevent the necessity of a rod. 1 am bold 
to say that a parent who has this steady au- 
thority will never have occasion to correct 
a child of common sensibility ; and never 
hut once, a child of imcommon obstinacy. 
This is the way every parent and master 
should work it. 

But the common practice is, for a parent 
to throw away his own authority and be- 
come the slave of his children : and when 



TKE PROMPTKR. 



SI 



the youninj 7nas{crs grow head stronpj and 
commit all manner of mischief, then the 
parent complains of old Adam, original 
sin and the Devil ; and declares he'll drive 
the devil out, or he'll know the reason 
why. Then for the Ji3t and the rod. 



THE PROMPTER. 

KUMBER 11. 

It is better to borrow thar^ to buy. 

So says ray correspondent, hut he things 
as. I do. Yes, if you v/ant a thing hut tmce 
in your life, it is better to borrow than to 
buy. But think of borrowin:^ the instru- 
ments o{ every day, ov of vrofessio7ial busi- 
ness ! Yes, it is cheaper to borroio 1000 
dollars than to earn it ; but look ye, when 
a man has borrowed the money, how much 
licher is he for it ? It is easier to go once to 
a neiglibor's for a shovel, than to work two 
days to buy it ; but alack, a fiirmer wants a 
shovel a great many times in tlie year; 
and the trouble of going after it and return- 
ing it is interest on the worth of it; yes, 
double interest. Now look ye to this, my 



32 THE PROMPTER. 

friend; if a man works two days for a 
shovel, he earns it and he has a shovel of 
his own:, he is richer by the whole value 
of a shovel. But when he goes to borrow 
it, he labors and gets • nothing ; he may 
spend a week's time in borrowing, but 
where is his shovel when he has done ? 
Does he work it right ? 

To THE Prompter. 

Sir, 

Suppose public officers to be unfaithful, 
and some thbiisands,pf pounds in arrear ; 
or, suppose men in the first offices of gov- 
ernment, act like mere old women ; do 
they work it right 7 Tom Qukrsst. 

The Prompter thinks they do not ; but 
they do not work it half so tvrong as those 
who fill offices with such men. 



THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 12. 

Come, tve'll take the other sip. 

The grog-drinker is not the only man 
who takes the other sip. The drone, the 



THE PROMPTER. 33 

sluggard opens his eyes upon t!^€! morning 
dawn; he stretches; rolls over; gapes; 
feels drowsy ; says it is time enough yet ; 
hugs the pillow, and takes the other sip. 
He naps away a precious hour or two, 
when he might have earned his breakfast. 

The gamester takes a hand at whist in 
the evening ; a hand or two can do no 
harm ; it is an amusement; a quarter of a 
dollar a corner is a trifle ; his mind is eri- 
gaged ; if he has Zosi a game, he must play 
another to win ; if he has won, he hopes to 
win again; he must take the othetjsip; 
and the other ; and the other ; the b^ 
rings nine o'clock ; but one hand ?/zore can 
do no harm ; who would go to bed with 
the chickens? The clock strikes ftccZi'c;. 
b'ut one hand more and I positively go ; 
the clock strikes ojie ; he starts; scolds at 
his luck ; but the next evening he'll t^ke 
another sip ; he swears he'll recover what 
he has lost; he marches home, when not 
an animal should be awake, but owls aud 
rats and thieves. »* 

The poor man, with a i;core of barefoot- 
ed children, breadless and ^aked, v/crks 
hard foi- a liltlo meat to sifence the de- 
mands of hunger, and a little wood io 
warm their naked limbs,. But there is a 
Lottery ; U prize of a thousand dollars i 



34 THE PROMPTKfl. 

and not two blanks to a prize ! Yes, one 
prize that is worth having, among nine 
thousand tickets ! Glorious chance ! nine 
thousand to one against him I But a tick- 
et he must have. Four or five days la- 
bor, the subsistence of several days must be 
bartered for a ticket ! JYins thousand to 
one against him ! Is this all ? No, no. He 
is anxious for good fortune ; he must stand 
by and see the drawing ; a week more lost; 
time is money ; the price of the ticket is 
two dollars, and it costs him four. The 
wheel of fortune rolls and rolls and rolls 
him up — a blank. But like the grog- 
drinker, who takes the other sip, he must 
try his luck again. Luckless man ! ?iine 
thousand to 07ie, is odds against him. On^ 
certainty is better than a thousand Lotte- 
ries, where some thousands of probabilities 
are against a man. 

Suppose a poor man saves enough out of 
his usual grog expenses to buy a ticket ;" 
but it would be better to save the money 
to buy bread and a pair of shoes for a shoe- 
less boy. 



THE PROMPTER. 83 

THE PROMPTER. 

KUMBER 13. 

Any other time will do as well. 

Yes, yes ; but are you sure that any oth- 
er time will arrive ? or if it should, are 
you certain you can attend to it ? If I hear 
a man or a woman say frequently, aiiy 
other time will do as ivell, I set them down 
on my list, the one as slack, slovenly ; the 
other, a careless slip-shod hussy. 

Call en such a man to settle his accounts ; 
*• O, I can't attend to it now," says the 
man, " it will do as well any other time."^ 
Call again ; O I am busy ; it will do as 
well to-morrow, or any other time. Call 
a third and a fourth time ; but he is never 
ready. The account stands unsettled ; it 
encreases from year to year ; at length 
death, that sturdy tyrant, trips up his heels, 
and lays him flat on his back : his accounts 
unsettled : his administrator has work e- 
nough upon his hands ; for a man who will- 
settle his accounts at any other time, will 
generally make his charges in the same 
way ; he does not set down every article 
at the time o£ purchase or sale ; he trusts 
to memory ; ne can remember the article 



S6 THE PROMPTER. 

and price and charge it at any other time ; 
he forgets ; makes mistakes ; his books are 
irregularly kept : they are disputed ; his 
administrator has no proof but the books ; 
and other people are alive to swear to their 
accounts or produce other evidence. Then 
begin lawsuits; and when law opens the 
door of litigation, poverty follows up close 
and enters with it. Juries and arbitrators 
decide these disputes upon vague uncer- 
tain evidence ; and somebody suffers the 
loss. So much for this any other time. 

But suppose a man lives long, as the 
worst men sometimes live the longest ; 
why he plagues every one that has any 
dealings with him ; yes, and is eternally 
haunted himself. 

The Prompter has heard it said, that 
taJie care of the farthings, the pounds ui 1 1 
take care of themselves. Now a word up- 
on this, if you please. Take special care of 
little shilling accounts ; they are like the 
old serpent, who deceived Eve, sly, insin- 
uating, tempting things. "How much 
does it cost ?" is the question whenever an 
article is to be purchased. A shilling, is 
the answer. O, then get it by all means : 
a shilling is a trifle. It is so, but " sands 
form the mountain.'^ Look^ i)a0t I say. 
The whole evil is, that i\ds"9htlling is a 



fUTS, PROMPTER. 87 

h-ifle ; a dollar ! that is no trifle I can't af- 
ford a dollar ; Very well : a dollar con- 
sists only of the small number of six shil- 
lings, and when six of these little trifles, 
these Lilliputian shillings are gone ; a 
dollar, that gigantic part of a man's es 
tate, is gone. 

Now then in order to baffle the tempta- 
tion of spending shillings ; settle your ac- 
counts often ; once a year at least ; for 
otherwise they will swell into an unman- 
ageable size. Suppose four neighbors take 
a news-paper, in partnership ; this makes 
the expence ^ trifie ; very good ; this is 
laudable; it is economical. But suppose 
you do not pay this trifle. How are the 
printers and post-riders and paper-makers, 
to live ? Look ye, my friends ; Connec- 
ticut river is a large river ; but this river 
is made up of little springs that will run 
through a gimblet hole. Vv^hen you walk 
about your fields, or traverse the woods, 
you step over little brooks, and little gur- 
gling rills, and never think you are stri- 
ping over Connecticut river. But rem-r 
ber, if all these little rills dry up. Conn 
ticut river is gone. Just so it is with Pi i.i- 
ters, v.ith Merchants, and with the State 
Treasury. Every shilling Is a little rill ; 
a small stream that runs into the post-ri- 



33 THE PROMPTER. 

der's pocket or the collector's purse ; a 
number of these little streams, thus united, 
make a large stream, like Farmington and 
Chickopee rivers; these streams empty in- 
to the printing-office or treasury, where 
they form Connecticut river and keep the 
business going on. Now follow nature ; 
little rills run perpetually. They murmur 
too, but they ru7i, or the river dries up ; 
They never stop and say, any other time 
will do as well. 



THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 14. 

Any other ti?ne will do as well. 

Nature never says this. She jogs on 
without delay and always does her work 
in season. 

The Parson puts off preparation for Sun- 
day, from Monday to Tuesday, and from 
Tuesday to Wednesday, and so on to Sat- 
urday. He can write a sermon at any 
time. The first of the week slides away 
in visits; in business; in amusements; 
the last of the week is to be devoted to 



THE PROMPTBR. 39 

study ; but company, a sick parishioner, 
and twenty unexpected avocations break 
in upon the reserved part of the week ; no 
preparation is made for the duties of Sun- 
day, until Saturday evening; a genii 
may yet be tolerably well prepared ii : 
few hours; but how few are the preatii 
ers of such genius ! Yet even the dull 
have a resource ; an eld sermon with a 
nav text is just as good as a fresh made 
sermon. True, for how few would know 
"whether they had heard a sermon once or a 
dozen times. Happy dullness ! Like peo- 
ple, like priest ! 

The doctor has a patient in a dangerous 
situation; he hurries to his relief; he 
makes no delay. But suppose his patient 
has a lingering disorder; why, says f!-. 
doctor, I can visit him at any time. I . 
has assigned an hour indeed when )io vv; 
see his patient ; but any other time inW ■■ 
as u-ell. The patient waits till (he her: 
past; then he becomes impatient; i: 
disorder is not violent, niopt probably ! 
cross and irritable ; be frets at the docf 
and ten to one the doctor loses his iU«(o! 
Then the doctor believes with the Pjol >> 
ter, that no time will do so well as the 
right time. 
The Lawyer has several cases in court : 



40 THE PROMPTER. 

he can prepare them for trial at any time. 
Several cases stand assigned for trial be- 
fore his ; he can finish the pleadings at any 
time ; by some unforeseen accident, busi- 
ness takes a new turn : the court urge for- 
ward to complete it ; his cases are called, 
and they are not ready ; a nonsuit ; a con- 
tinuance ; or some other expensive alter- 
native is the consequence. 

The Farmer's fence is down and his 
fields exposed to his neighbor's cattle ; but 
he has a little job to do first ; he can repair 
his fences at any time ; before his any 
time comes, fifty or a hundred sheep get 
into his field and eat and trample down his 
wheat ; for want of an hour's vrork, he 
loses ten, fifteen or twenty bushels of 
wheat. His apple trees want pruning ; 
but he must dress his flax before he can do 
it ; warm weather approaches ; he will 
certainly prune his trees in a day or two, 
but he'll finish a little job first; before he 
has done, the season is past ; it is too late 
to prune his trees ; they must go another 
year ; and half his fruit is lost. 

The lounging house-wife rises in the 
morning in haste; for lazy folks are ever 
in a hurry ; she has not time to put on her 
clothes properly ; but she can do it at any 
time. She di^ws on her gown, but leave* 



•riiE PROMPTER. 41 

it half pinned ; her handkerchief is thrown 
awry across her neck ; her shoes down at 
her heels; she bustles about with her hair 
over her eyes ; she runs from room to 
room slip-shod, resolved to do rip the icorlz 
and dress herself; but folk? who are slip- 
shod about the feet, are usually slip-shod 
all over the house and all day ; they leri^in 
every thing and finish nothing. In the 
midst of the poor woman's hurry, some- 
body comes in ; she is in a flutter ; runs 
into the next rooms ; pins up her gown 
and handkerchief; hurries back v.'ith her 
heels thumping the floor; O dear you 
have cutched us all in the suds ; I intended 
to have cleaned iqy before any body came 
in ; but I have had every thing to do this 
morning; in the meantime, she catches 
hold of the broom and begins to sweep ; 
the dust rises and stifles every soi.l pres- 
ent. This is ill manners indeed to brush 
the dust into a neighbor's face ; but tho 
woman is very sorrow it happens so. 

Many a neighbor has thus been enter- 
tained with apologies and dust at a friend's 
house, and wherever this takes place, de- 
pend on it, the mistress puts otf to any 
time, that is, to no time ; what ought to 
be done at the present time. 



42 THE PROMPTER. 

TO CORRESPONDENTS. 

The Prompter sends his respects to his 
correspondents, with thanks for their aid. 
As it is his professed business to give good 
hints, he is cordially disposed to take them. 



THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 15. 

When a man's name is up, he may lay 
abed till noon. 

Our good country folks who talk En- 
glish, when they mean to say a man's 
fame is spread abroad, or his reputation ex- 
tensively established, say, his name is itp^ 
or he has got his name i(p. How blessed 
is the man who has got his name up. 

Every body knows how a certain asti-on- 
omer got his name up for ^ great Alma- 
nack maker, by foretelling snow in the 
month of May. The truth was, in the 
copy of his Almanack, in the month of 
May, there happened to be a blank space ; 
he cast about for something to fill the 
blank space ; snow was the first word that 



THE PROMPTER. 43 

■ :'* 
occurred, aixd snow "was written in the 
blank. Heaven, not by accident, for 
Heaven has nothing to do with the capri- 
cious things called accidents ; heaven had 
determined there should be snow that year 
in May, and snow there was, though the 
almanack maker had as little foreknowl- 
edge of this as his horse block. No soon- 
er did it snow, but all the world looked in- 
to the almanack ; " La, (said the world) 
our almanack tells us of snow at this very 
time. This is a knowing man ; he is a gen- 
ius." What a lucky hit ! The marl's name 
was up , no almanack so good as his ; and 
while he continued to make almanacks, 
Sir Isaac Newton himself would have 
starved upon almanack making, within the 
fame of this mighty conjurer, whose alma- 
nacks, by one mere guess, had got his 
name up and drove all competitors from 
the market. When this was done, he 
might lie abed till noon. A single blunder 
before his name was up, would have dam- 
ned his almanacks ; afterwards, fifty errors 
only gave credit to his woi-k, for, say the 
world, great men ?7iay mistake, but this 
man's name is up. 

I have known a man get Ms name up 
by curing the belly ache (excuse me La- 
dies, for the Ladlea in Philadelphia of the 



44 THE PROMPT£tt. 

tip top fashion call certain rolls of sweet 
cake by a much less delicate name) with 
a powder of unknown composition. All at 
once the doctor is sent for to cure the bel- 
ly ache. Even the boys who eat screen 
apples must have the belly ache Doctor : 
Skill, science, wisdom, prudence are <^11 
prostrated before that doctor and his pow- 
der. If his patients die, no matter ; his 
7iame is up, and he will still have business. 

It is a good thine; to get one^sname up ; 
especially for curing some disease that no 
body else can cure ; one that is com- 
monly fatal. The more terrifyinej the dis- 
ease, the better ; as the consumption or 
cancers, for example. But the most de- 
lectable way for the fviculty to get up their 
names, is, to advertise as German Doctors, 
to prescribe for all diseases by inspecting a 
sample of the water ; hov/ ? But to receive 
bottles from all quarters ! 

I once knew a shop-keeper who got his 
name up as a cheap trader. He did indeed 
sell cheap ; wondrous cheap ; even heloii} 
first cost. He began to trade with little 
capital : sold goods for less than he gave ; 
and yet grew rich. Hov/ can this be ? 
The Prompter thinks it is very easy. That 
article which every body wants and knows 
the value of, fell very low ; even lower 



THE PROMPTER. 45 

than first cost ; get your name up ; draw 
all the world to your shop : and then put 
double profit on other goods. It is very 
easy and very common ; the greatest 
block-head can do this and make a fortune. 

I Avas once traveling through a neigh- 
boring State, and inquiring for the best 
inns on the road, was directed to a noted 
one, whose owner had got his name up 
for the best entertainment. He had a 
large house well partitioned into small 
rooms for single lodgers. His stable was 
excellent ; but his cookery at his table was 
wretched, mean indeed ; I could eat no- 
thing. But every traveler would seek this 
noted inn; he would ride half the night and 
pass half a dozen better houses,to get to this 
noted inn ; in the fact the man had got his 
waw?e t/p and he might lie abed till noon. 

A young lady gets her name up for a 
beauty or a fortune ; all the world are 
sighing and dying for her. Wit, sense, 
accomplishments all distinguish her ; beaus 
hang round her, like flies round a cask of 
sugar ; suddenly she hag a fit of sickness ; 
the roses on her cheek decay. It is dis- 
covered she has no fortune ; her admirers 
draw off; she is a clever girl, but she is 
not so clever as I thought her. 

I once knew a very sensible woman who 



46 THE PKOMTTEn. 

took a great fancy to names. One of her 
whims was that her daughters should marry 
names beginning with H. She could give 
no reason for her inclination but this ; she 
had known several of her neighbors who 
had married men with a name lieginning 
with H and they all made good husbands. 
They were not the greatest men, she said, 
but they were kind, good natured husbands 
and would suffer any thing rather than be 
offended. All the neighborhood were in 
love with the letter H; nothing would do 
for a husband, but this letter H, which 
some squeamish grammarians will have to 
be no letter. But the name of the letter 
was up. 

To conclude, a man by the name of 
Washington some time ago passed through 
the village where I live. This was soon 
known ; i>Ir. Washington ! What, a rela- 
tion of the President ? This indeed was 
not known ; but every body really thought 
he looked a little like the President. All. 
the world collected to get a peep at him as 
he passed the windows of his lodgings ; 
every body bowed as he passed. Every 
body looked and admired ! The man was 
indeed a very great scoundrel ; but he 
knew human nature ; he knew the name 
of Washington was ujo ; he assumed the 



THE PROMPTER. 47 

name for traveling purposes;lhe President's 
real letters of recommendation could 
have procured more respect. 

When a man's name is up, he may lie 
abed till noon. 



THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 16. 

What is every body^s business is no body^s. 

The consequence is, that every body and 
nobody are just the same thing ; a truth 
most pointedly exemplified in the kitchen 
of a southern Nabob. " Phil," says the 
mistress, Avith the air of an empress; Phil 
appears. " Go tell Peg to tell Sue to come 
along here and pick up a needle." " Yes 
ma'am," answers Phil, and waddles back 
like a duck. " Peg, mistress says you 
must tell Sue to go to her and pick up a 
needle." Peg carries the message to Sue, 
but Sue is busy cleaning a candlestick. 
•' Well," says Sue, " I will go as soon as 
I have done." The mistress wants the 
needle ; she can't go on with her work 
without the needle ; she waits ten or fif- 



48 THE PROMPTER. 

teen minutes ; grows impatient ; " Phil, 
did you tell Peg what I told you ?" " Ye — s 
ma'am," says Phil drawling out her an- 
swer. " Well why don't the jade do what 
I told her ?" " Peg, come here you hussy, 
did you tell Sue what Phil told you?" 
" Yes ma'm." " Well, why don't the la- 
zy trollop come along : Here I am wait- 
ing for the needle ; tell the jade to come 
instantly." 

Risum tcneatis? Huld, my readers don't 
know Latin ; but can you help laughing, 
my friends ? Laugh then at the southern 
Nabob, with twenty fat slaves in his kitch- 
en. Laugh well at him ; for there is 
cause enough ; then come home and laugh. 

You want a good school perhaps; and 
Fo do your neighbors ; but whose business 
is it to find a teacher, a house, &c. " John 
I wish you would speak to William to ask 
Joseph to desire our friend Daniel to set 
about getting a good school. We want 
one very much ; it is a shame for us to be 
so negligent." This is thelast^ we hear of 
the good school. What is every- body's 
business is 7iGbo(7y's. 

Now in fact it is a very easy thing to 
pick up a needle ; but if one cannot 
stoop to pick it up, another ought to be 
jfttid for it. One servant that is paid for 



THB PKOMPTER. 



his work, will pick up more needles than 
twenty fat lounging slaves that think it a 
drudgery and get nothing for it. 



THE PROMPTER. 

NgMBER 17. 

When a man is going down hill, every one 
gives hi77i a kick. 

This, it is said, is very natural ; that is, 
it is very common. There are two rea- 
sons for this^. First, it is much easier to 
kick a man doion hill, than to push him 
tqi hill ; Second, men love to see every 
hody at the bottom of the hill but them- 
selves. 

Different men have diflerent ways of 
climbing into, rank and office. Some bold 
fellows take a run and mount at two or 
three strides. Others of less vigor use 
more art; they creep slyly along upon 
their bellies, catching hold of the clifts 
and twigs to pull themselves up; some- 
times they meet a high rock and are oblig- 
ed to craw] round it ; at other times they 
catch hold of a prominent cliflf or a little 
4 



50 THE PROMPTER. 

twig, which gives way and back they tum- 
ble, scratching their clothes and sometimes 
their skin. However it is, very few will 
lift their neighbors; unless to get a lift 
themselves. Yet sometimes one of these 
crawlers will lend a hand to their neigh- 
boring crawlers ; affect to pull hard to 
raise them all a little ; then getting upon 
their shoulders, give a leaf to an eminence, 
and leave them all in. the lurch, or kick 
them over'. The moment one begins to 
tumble, every one who is near hits him a 
kick. 

But no people get so many kicks as poor 
debtors in failing circumstances. While a 
man is doing very well, that is, while his 
credit is good, every one helps him ; the 
moment he is pressed for money, however 
honest and able he may be, he gets kicks 
from all quarters. His friends and his re- 
putation desert him with the loss of his 
purse, and he soon tumbles to the bottom 
of the hill. 



THE PROMPTER. 51 

THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 18. ^* 

/ told you so. 

What a wise man is this // He fore- 
sees all evils and tells when and how they 
will happen. He warns erery one of eve- 
ry misfortune that ever falls upon him : 
after the mischief is all done, he struts and 
says with a boasting superiority, / told 
you so, though perhaps he never said a 
word about it, until the thing happened. 

It is warm weather, a man buys a quar- 
ter of veal or mutton ; he deliberates 
whether he had better hang it up in the 
buttery or in the cellar ; he does not 
know whether the heat above stairs, or the 
damp air below, is most injurious to fresh 
meat ; finally he puts it in the buttery , 
his wife knows nothing of this ; but the 
next day the meat is spoiled ; the husband 
says, " My dear, the meat is spoiled." 
" Where was it put ?" says the good wo- 
man. " In the buttery." " Aye, / told you 
so," says the wife. 

" My dear," says the wife, one very 
pleasant day, not a cloud to be seen ; " I 
shall visit Mrs. Such a one to day ; will 



52 THE PROMPTER. 

you come and drink tea and wait on me 
home ?" The husband pouts a little ; but 
the woman makes her visit ; in the after- 
noon a shower comes over, and the earth 
is covered with water ; in the evening the 
woman comes in, dripping with water; 
her husband meets her at the door, exult- 
ing, Jiye, I told you so, but you are always 
gossipping about. 

A young man in going to take a ride; it is 
fine weather, and he thinks it useless to 
take a great coat ; a shower comes upon 
him suddenly and he gets wet ; he comes 
home at evening and is met at the door 
with this consoling address, / told you so 



THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 19, 

*'Carpe diem." Horace. ' 

" Take time by tJie forelock." 

Plain English. 

There is a mighy difference between 
going before and behind ; between pulling 



THE PKOMPTER. 63 

ftnd being pulled. He who takes time by 
the forelock goes before and helps the draft; 
but the man who does not, is like a horse 
tied to the tail end of a cart, pulling back 
with all his weight. 

Time is a sturdy beast, and steady to the 
draft ; he will drag along the heaviest slug- 
gard that snores and nods ; but what a fig- 
ure a man makes, tied by the head to Ap- 
pollo's chariot ! 

The drone awakes in the morning ; looks 
at the sun ; " O, it is only an hour high," 
down he lays his head. In summer the 
flies disturb him ; they light on his face 
and buz about his ears ; as much as to say 
get up, you lazy fellow. He brushes off 
the little busj' monitors, swears at them, 
covers his face, or darkens the room ; then 
sleeps in quiet. At length his bones ache; 
he shifts sides and tries hard to lie easy ; 
but all will not do'; by the middle of the 
forenoon, he is forced to leave his bed ; he 
;'ises up on end (but how the middle of a 
man can be called an end, the Prompter 
submits to the consideration of learned 
word-mqRgers) he scratches his head ; he 
gapes ; after much ado, the man is up and 
dressed. He gets his breakfast, and then, 
has an hour or two for business before din- 
ner. The man is dragged along by time 



54 THE PROMPTER. 

and his business drags heavily after him. 

Is he a merchant? Customers call before 
he is up, and go away as they come. One 
good bargain after another lost, while the 
man is snoring. 

Is he a mechanic ? His apprentices follow 
his example ; they doze away the morning ; 
or get up and loiter about. Work is not 
done or it is ill done and the man loses his 
custom. 

Is he a farmer ? while he is in bed, the 
sun warms the air, and dries the earth. 
He loses the benefit of plowing the earth 
with the dew on, or cutting the grass 
when it is moist and cuts easy. Some 
times his cattle break into a field of corn 
and destroy the crop, while the drone is 
rolling from side to side to ease his bones, 
or brushing off the flies which interrupt 
his sleep. i 

Is he a public officer ?. He is everlast- 
ingly hurried, so that he cannot do any 
business. " Call another time, call again," 
is his answer to every man who wants 
business done. " Do you want a paper or 
a copy," O, I can't attend to it now, you 
must call again." Such a man never takes 
time by the forelock. 



THE PROMPTER. 55 

THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 20. 

She carries the bell. 

Our honest farmers, who turn their cat- 
tle and sheep into the woods, put a bell 
upon one of the stoutest of the herd, 
which is said to carry the bell ; and the 
rest of the flock usually follow their lead- 
er. So a lady of uncommon beauty or 
sprightliness is said to carry the hell. She 
is easily found and has a large herd in her 
train. 

This carrying the bell has a wonderful 
effect in procuring notice and admiration. 
It is like getting one's name up. The la- 
dy who arrives at the honor of carrying 
the hell, may do and say what she pleases 
with impunity. Like the bell weather in 
the woods, wherever she goes, even thro' 
swamps and rivers and briers, all the herd 
will stupidly follow. 

A lady who carries the bell will have a 
croud of flatterers about her ; every one 
is her most humble servant. One will 
court her a few weeks ; she will smile till 
t!ie man is half distracted ; then she will 
frown on him and smiJe on another. 



66 THE PROMPTER. ' 

Sometimes she gives hopes that her heart 
and hand will be surrendered to her fond 
lover; then all at once, she can suit her- 
self better. She makes a dozen ninies 
dance attendance for years. Till at last 
s'ne loses her character and admirers at 
once, or gives her hand, with a worthless, 
fickle, proud, unfeeling heart, to some 
good man of great simplicity of intentions. 
Here we have a pretty couple yoked to- 
gether for life. But look ye, young bach- 
elors: a lady who carries the bell before 
marriage, always carries the fore end of 
the yoke after marriage. An officer who 
has long commanded a regiment, is not 
easily reduced to the ranks. Astonishing ! 
Can the Prompter wish a wife to be redu- 
ced to the ranks ; subdued, humbled, com- 
manded by her husband, like a soldier by 
his officers ! No, no, my dear good wo- 
man ; but will a captain lieutenant sub- 
mit to be second lieutenant ? Ah, there's 
the rub. 

How charming it is to carry the bell ! 
Every body who comes to town must call 
upon the lady who carries the bell ; Just 
call at least, so as to say, when he gets 

home, " I saw Miss , the bell of the 

town, and she looked and acted so and so." 
Every man who is going to Boston, to 



THE PROMPTER. 57 

New-York, to Philadelphia, must call on 
Miss * ^ --, pay their respects and beg the 
favor to be permitted to carry a letter from 
her to her friend. If she does not want to 
write, she must write a line at least ; it is 
such an honor ; a happiness, for every bo- 
dy, to speak to her ; to speak of her ; and 
to carry a letter which she wrote. O the 
pleasures, the advantages and the vexations 
of carrying the bell ! 



THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 21. 

He is solving his toild oats. 

And a plentiful crop, they will produce. 
It is expected of a young man that he will 
sow all his wild oats, when young ; but 
the mischief is, that a man who begins 
life with sowing wild oats, seldom sows a 
better kind, in middle life and old age. 

Many a man has been ruined by an in- 
dulgent parent. He has a sprightly turn 
as it is called : he likes a good frolick ; he 
plays a good game ; he is not malicious in 
hv3 vices j in short his father says, he is 



5S THE PROMPTER. 

only sowhig his wild oats ; he therefore 
does not restrain him or put him to busi- 
ness ; the young man makes free with 
gaming and the bottle ; at first he is mod- 
erate in his pleasures ; he does not get 
drunk nor break windows. After sowing 
wild oats a year or two, he loves it better 
than ever ; he gambles deeper ; he leaves 
his quarter of a dollar a corner for a dol- 
lar, and a dollar for an eagle. He drinks 
more, as his head bears it better ; he stays 
later at night : at length he knows no 
bounds ; he gets drunk : he oversets tables 
and chairs, and breaks windows and wine- 
glasses ; and this is sport ; fun up to the 
eyes; and if the poor landlord interferes 
to keep order, he has- broken glasses and 
bowls at his head ; he retreats ; and in the 
morning finds his house a scene of desola- 
tion, in short, the young blade has been 
sowing his wild otits. A heavy bill for 
broken tumblers, glasses and chairs follows 
the frolicks ; but what then ; must a man 
never have a frolick, a scrape, a riot ? 
What a poor pitiful mouse of a man is he 
that always keeps sober and stays at home; 
or sits simpering and whimpering with la- 
dies ! Can a mah of business or study be a 
gentleman, or a clever fellow ? 

The young buck sows his wild oats till 



THE PROMPTER. 69 

he is a master of the business ; he does it 
with a grace ; a habit is formed; ah, then 
let him quit it, if he can. O habit ! thou / 
stickest to a man like his shadow or a guil- - 
ty conscience. ' 

" But reformed rakes make the best hus- 
bands." Upon the honor of the Prompter, 
it may be so ; but such an animal as a re- 
formed rake, is as rare as camels or lions 
in America. The sight of one would com- 
mand as good a price as that of the Orang 
Outang. The creature is like patriotism, 
much talked about and often praised but 
never seen. 

The man who is indulged freely in sow- 
ing his wild oats when young, generally 
sows them all his days. But suppose he 
does not ; where is the advantage of sow- 
ing them at all ? " None, will be the an- 
swer : but young folks all have follies 
they must get rid of." True, but in get- 
ting rid of /oZ/ies, look to them well, that 
they do not acquire vices. Habit sticks 
fast to a man, like his skin ; look to that, 
says the Prompter. 



60 THE PROMPTER. 

THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 22. 

He would have his own ivay. 

And no way is so good as ?Jime. The 
question is not whether this or that is the 
better way, but whether it is my way or 
your way. Orthodoxy is my doxy and he- 
terodoxy is your doxy. 

If a man is successful in an undertaking, 
every neighbor he has cries out, ah, I 
thought so ; that is my way. If unsuccess- 
ful, every one says, ah, I told him so, but 
he would have his own way. 

Said a very complying husband to his 
wife, " shall I put the winter apples into 
the east or west cellar." "Just which you 
please," said the wife ;"you know which 
is best." In the winter the apples froze 
and were spoiled ; the good lady found it 
out, and complained to her husband, " My 
dear, the apples are all froze and spoiled ; 
you put them into the wrong cellar ; but 
you would have your own way." 

" Susy," says a careful mother to her 
daughter, who is going to church, " it is 
cold; had you better wear a cloke?" 
** Why, ma'am" says Susy, " I will do as 



THE PROMPTED 61 

you please ; if you think it best I will 
wear one." " Well, I don't know, Susy, 
what to say ; people hardly ever catch 
cold by going to church. You may ven- 
ture to go without it, Susy." Susy goes 
t0 churcTi ; wets her feet and in two days 
is quite laid up with a cold. " Ah Susy" 
says the kind mother, " I spoke to you 
about wearing a cloak ; but you would 
have your own way." 

" Father," says John, " shall I go to 
mowing to day ?" " Why John," says the 
old gentleman, " wont it rain ? I should be 
sorry to have the grass cut, if it is going to 
rain." But John goes to mowing. Soon 
after, the clouds are dissipated and a fine 
clear day follows. "Ah John," says the 
father, " 1 am glad you went to mowing; 
for I thought we should have a good day, 
after such a-lowry morning." 

"Husband," said a pious lady "let 
us bring up our son to college and 
make a minister of him. We have but 
one, and I want him to preach." The 
son goes to college ; there he learns that 
some other professions are better calculat- 
ed to get money, than that of clergymen. 
He leaves college and studies law. The 
good lady's hopes are defeated, and in her 
vexation she declares she is sorry her son 



62 THE PROMPTER. 

went to college. But, addressing herself 
to her husband, " you would have your 
own way." 



THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 23. 

If I was he. 

Ah ! what if you was ? Why I would do 
so and so. No, Sir, under the same cir- 
cumstances, you would do just like him 
or worse. 

" If I was a minister," says a well mea- 
ning parishioner, " and had as little to do 
as most ministers have, I would study my 
sermons better. I would not come into 
the pulpit, without a sermon and have to 
make one as I go along ; nor would I 
preach one of Blair's. 

" If I was a lawyer," says a farmer, " I 
should not have the face to ask three dol- 
lars for a few words of advice." But sup- 
pose sir, you had spent five hundred 
pounds in qualifying yourself to give that 
advice. 

" If I was Mr. Such a one I would not 



THE PROMPTER. 



63 



be plagued with law suits as he is. I am 
sure he might avoid it. 

'• Neighbor such a one has a large farm ; 
he owns a large stock of cattle ; but he 
lives wretchedly in his house. His wife is 
a drozzle, his tables and chairs are covered 
with grease. If I was he, I would put 
things into better order, or Pd know the 
reason why." 

Alas, poor man, wait till you have a 
slut for a housekeeper, and then change 
your tone. 

" If I was a shopkeeper, I would not 
meanly undersell my neighbors, nor would 
I give credit. I am sure I should not be 
gi-iiiy of the dirty business of dealing out 
gills of rum to every low lived fellow." 

" If I was such a one," says a young 
man, "I would not marry such a lady 
for depend on it, she will be a Xantippe, 
If I ivas he, I am sure I could not love 
her." 

" If I was a married man," says an old 
bachelor " I would govern my children, or 
I'd know the reason why. There is neigh- 
bor such a one who suffers his children to 
do all manner of mischief, and if a word of 
reproof is uttered, the little fellows laugh 
in his teeth." Bachelors'children are al- 
ways well governed. 



fA 



THE PROMPTER. 



What a pity, that since the world is so 
bad, this Mr. /, who is so wise and benev- 
olent, cannot turn into every body and cor- 
rect every body's vices and follies ; then 
change from every body into / a^ain and 
correct I's own vices and follies. 



THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 24. 

M stitch in time saves nine. 

Not merely in stockings ; it holds in 
every article of business. 

A woman wants to use a dish, a spoon, 
a pail, a tumbler, or something else. When 
she has done for that time, she does not 
clean it, for she will put it up dirty and 
wait till she has a number of articles to 
clean. By and by every thing is dirty and 
half a day must be devoted to washing and 
scrubbing ; whereas, had every thing been 
cleaned at first separately, it would only 
have filled up little vacancies of time 
which would not otherwise have been em- 
ployed;the time never wouldhave been per- 
ceived. Every thing that is left dirty, tends 



THE PROMPTER. 66 

lo sour something about it; a few dirty 
articles in the closet, make it necessary to 
clean and scrub the whole, as often again 
as would otherwise be necessary. A stitch 
in time saves nine. 

A man sees a post of his fence falling; 
one post commands but little attention ; 
the fence will answer for this summer. 
The next spring the frost heaves the land, 
and loosens half a dozen posts near it, and 
the weight of the leaning fence pulls it 
down, and half a dozen lengths with it. 

A clap-board gets loose, or a shingle 
upon his house. One clap-board off can 
do no great injury, says the man ; he neg- 
lects it; But rain and snow get in unper- 
ceived ; and in a year or two twenty clap- 
boards are rotten and fall off by wholesale. 
" Ah, says the man, this has been neglect- 
ed too long. All this might have been 
saved with a few minutes trouble." True, 
but it is too late to shut the door, when 
the horse is stolen. A stitch in time saves 
nine. :--- 

A lawyer or a public officer has papers 
to be filed. One after another is handed 
in, and he throws them into his desk, 
waiting for a large number, and then he 
will arrange them in order. Before he is 
ready, somebody calls and wants to look at 
5 



66 THE PROMPTER, 

a paper; the man tumbles over the papers 
an hour or two, and after all can't find it ; 
but he will file them soon, and then he 
will be ready to show any paper whatever. 
Pray, call again, is all the man gets for 
calling. 

But in no article does a stitch in time 
save so much as in government. One 
public officer neglects his duty a little ; 
another cheats a little ; but these pecca- 
dillo's are overlooked ; the mischief is 
not great ; the j'^ublic does not feel it ; 
and individuals will not inform, for they 
will make some scoundrel their enemy. 
At last a thousand little evils swell into a 
great public one, the public is cheated, 
betrayed, abused ; but where's the rem- 
edy ? 



THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 25. 

He has come out at the little end of the 
horn. 

When a man thrives and swells large, 
h« cornea out at the big end of the horu 



THE PROMPTER 



67 



of course ; but when he pines away in 
poverty, he may very well slip through 
the little end. 

A young man often has eyes bigger than 
his belly. He lays out great plans; which 
he has feeble means and S7nall talents io 
accomplish. He begins a hundred things 
which he does not tinish ; he plants his 
seed so thick, that the growth of the 
whole crop is checked, and it produces 
nothing in perfection. In a short time his 
means are totally exhausted and he comes 
out at the little end of the horn. 

A man begins trade upon credit ; as 
soon as he gets money into his hands, he 
begins to spend it ; he builds a large house; 
he buys horses and carriages, makes en- 
tertainment?, drinks rich wines and wears 
expensive clothing ; in a few months, he 
creeps out of the horn at the little end. 
He runs away or looks through the grates. 
A young man with a good trade, or a 
small farm designs to live easier than by 
work. He begins to trade in horses, in- 
digo, pins and combs. He goes two hun- 
dred miles, with his saddle-bags loaded 
with commodities ; he barters them away 
for horses ; he leads home three or four 
horses ; he makes a small advance on 
each, it is true ; but he forgets to estimate 



€8 THE PROMPTER. 

among profits and losses, the constant ex- 
penses of himself and horses, the uncom- 
mon wear and tear of clothes, horse equip- 
age and the accidents to which horses are 
liable, and the uncertainty of market, be- 
fore the horses have eaten out half their 
value. The fourpenny grogs and three 
penny horse baitings are overlooked ; he 
pursues the business, till he is sued ; he 
wonders why he does not make money. 
At last he is jockied out of the little estate 
he had ; he is out at the little end of the 
horn. By the way, a word to horse jock- 
ies : the buyer of horses who stays at 
home and waits for horses to be brought 
to him for market, buys them to advan- 
tage. But the buyer who goes after them, 
and courts the sale of horses, buys them at 
a disadvantage. It makes an immense 
difference, to have the proposal come from 
the seller, rather than the purchaser. 

When a farmer runs to the merchant 
for goods, telling him, " Sir, I want some 
of your goods, but cannot pay you till fall." 
I expect to see him peep out at the little 
end of the horn. He takes up goods, per- 
haps rum, on credit, and intends to pay for 
them with his corn, his beef and his pork. 
But suppose a drouth or a blast cuts off 
his corn, and his grass is short ; tlien he 



THE PROMPT 1:R. 69 

has none to spare, and he cannot fatten his 
hogs and his cattle. Poor man, he has 
consumed the merchant's goods and they 
are not paid for. Then a suit is brought 
for the money ; officers' fees increase the 
sum ; the man borrows money on interest 
to pay the execution, or parts with a horse 
or a cow at half price ; in a short time his 
land must go at this rate ; he slips out at 
the little end of the horn, and runs to the 
Ohio or the Gennessee. 

But no men go out at the little end of 
the horn sso easily as the tavern-haunter 
and the grog-drinker. A fat young heir, 
just come in possession of his estate, 
mounts his horse, with his pocket full of 
guineas, and rides full tilt to the tavern. 

He worships Bacchus twenty years, 
night and day. He takes his cheerful glass 
of wine at first, with very good company. 
He scorn to drink grog and toddy, with the 
rabble. He once in a while gets tumbled 
under the table in a high gale but in gen- 
eral goes home sober and clean. 

By and by the smell of grog becomes 
agreeable ; he begins to take a nip i;ov/ 
and then ; his relish improves by little and 
little till he never steps into a tavern with- 
out calling for a glass of rum and water. 
When this is the case, his situation is des- 



70 THE PROMPTER. 

perale. To be in character, he must love 
dirty women ; he must sneak about into 
kitchens aud by places, into barns and back 
chambers, in search of his filthy game. 
In a few years, he becomes a sot, a nasty 
debauchee ; his clothes are torn and stain- 
ed with liquor and spotted with grease, his 
body bent down with intemperance ; his 
gouty feet swathed in flannel, his hands 
trembling, his bloated nose of crimson hue, 
and his knees tottering beneath his feeble 
emaciated carcase. 

A man wants to be popular ; he knows 
he has but small talents and no great in- 
tegrity ; but he can smile and flatter and 
look sweet at every body, whether knave, 
fool or honest man. He plays off his arts 
for some years, till the mob cry out, he is 
a clever man, h-e is 71c t proud. They then 
begin to lift him ; make him selectman, 
moderator of town meetings, tavern keep- 
er, constable, justice of the peace, colonel 
of a regiment, representative in the assem- 
bly, &c. He is aiming at the Senate, or 
at Congress, or at the chair of the chief 
magistrate. He expects to pop in at the 
next election ; he doubles his smiles; but 
even fools discover his arts and his mean- 
ness; they neglect him ; one young man 
after another goes over his head ; ho frets 



THE PROMPTER. 71 

and wriggles a while, but his hobby-horse 
cannot carry him a step further. He gives 
over the pursuit ; and sits down quiet in 
obscurity ; he is out at the little end of the 
hirn. 

It is laughable to see the admirers of 
quacks, mountebanks and jugglers, sneak 
out at the little end of the horn. Dr. Sil- 
verhead has just come to town ; he cures 
all disorders ; he never yet failed ; he has 
a medicine at a quarter of a dollar which is 
infallible ; he can turn unguentum, diacu- 
lum, and every sort of drug into silver or 
gold ; he changes quicksilver into dollars 
in half a minute ; he will cure all diseases 
but death, and make us rich by the great ; 
he is generous and benevolent, beyond de- 
scription he will take no reward, but as 
many presents as fools will give ; all the 
world go out after the quack ; he thrives 
upon their ignorance and credulity for a 
short time ; he draws the last nine-pence 
from the purses of his poor deluded fol- 
lowers ; he then takes a journey on busi- 
ness of magnitude; and leaves them in the 
lurch ; they are all out at the little end of 
the horti. 

Miss Smart is not a lady of fortune, but 
her father is a good liver ; he has a good 
estate and has given his children a good 



72 THE PROMPTER. 

education. Miss Smart gets above her 
school-mates, dresses well and has the vis- 
its and notice of good company. She is 
addressed by a young man of no fortune, 
but of good education and character. " But 
she will not marry him ; not she. She 
must have a man of higher standing than 
all that." One good offer after another is 
rejected. She does not know how to 
choose a man that will he rich and respect- 
able ; but she or any body else can know 
when a man is called rich. Every body 
wonders why Miss Smart cannot suit her- 
self out of so many admirers. She is 
growing old ; five and twenty already ; 
and has not found the man to her mind. 
Still she is nice ; she has not seen any bo- 
dy she can love ; and it is better to live 
single, than to marry the man one cannot 
fancy; [by the way, /a^icy, she supposes, 
will be a standing dish to ieedi upon thro' 
life ; but a word to the wise ; fancy is 
froth, mere froth ; a little family breeze 
blows it away and it is gone.] Miss Smart 
is almost thirty and has seen nobody to 
suit her. Her admirers are gone ; her 
friends are sorry she is difficult ; her ene- 
mies jnty her and rejoice. At five and 
ihirty,Miss Smart marries a widower with 
seven children, and this is the last we 



THE PROMPTER. 



73 



hear of her v/hima and her prospects. Sh« 
creeps through the little end of the horn. 

A mechanic begins business with pom- 
pous promises; he will work very reason- 
ably indeed, and his work shall exceed ev- 
ery thing of the kind. He gives his work 
a fine polish, a good gloss, and sends it 
out to satisfy his engagements and gratify 
public expectation. In a few days, one 
article breaks ; then another and a third ; 
this is the man with fine speeches and 
promises ; his credit is soon gone ; he is 
out at the little end of the horn, 

The merchant is determined to get rich 
very fast ; he imports rum ; high proof; 
it will bare reducing ; he reduces it ; he 
sells it for good West-India rum ; it is 
carted into the country ; and lo ! it is on- 
ly strong grog. The purchaser curses the 
rum and the seller of it together ; the mer- 
chant loses his credit and his custom ; gets 
the name of a jockey ; a cheat ; and people 
will go to others for their rum ; even to 
other towns, for one dirty trick gives a 
whole town a bad name. A man small 
enough to barter away his character and 
that of his neighbors, for a few gallons of 
rum will easily slip through the little end 
of the horn. 

Another set of men who most readily 



74 THE PItOMPTEB. 

slip through the small end of the horn, ar« 
fat plump speculating doctors, tailors, car- 
penters, hucksters and butchers. " Bless 
me," says the tailor, " six per Cents above 
par, bank scripts at 180 dollars ! Every 
l)ody is making a fortune ; it must be so ; 
for what else makes the paper so high and 
every body bewitched after it ?" This is 
the beginning and end of his calculation ; 
he throws down his goose ; hurries to the 
exchange or the brokers, and buys stock ; 
and to make sure of a fortune, cuts deep ; 
50 shares in the bank at 180 or 240 dollars 
for 25 ! A fortune ; a fortune ; His head 
is so full of good fortune, that he cannot 
sleep for a night or two. Even his wife 
runs distracted at the thoughts of a for- 
tune ! In four days time, stock falls two, 
three, five hundred per cent. ; it subsides 
to that natural level, from which a hund- 
red men of his fortune cannot stir it. Alas 
the man is ruined in making a fortune ! 
He creeps through the little end of the 
horn ; but there is one comfort for him ; 
he is as well off as his neighbors. Half 
the town is taken in as well as himself. 
JV^e sutor ultra crepidani, tailor stick to 

your goose^^ 

' * Alluding to speculations in slockB at the tim« 
Ibe debts of the United States were funded. 



TBB PaOMI^TIBK. 79 

THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 26. 

Stolen waters are sweet. 

Aye, and stolen cherries too, though as 
green as an olive ! But why does stealing 
a thing make it sweet ? Here I am puzzled. 
Perhaps, because it hits the taste the bet- 
ter. What a pure taste must that be, 
which can relish green cherries, sour half 
grown apples and pears, and green water- 
melons, as tough and insipid as a squash. 

J3ut stealing is done in the dark ; it is a 
sly trick ; and how clever it is to be sly .' 
yes, and it's noble, heroic and manly too I 
But stop : let us think a moment. Hero- 
ism in the dark ! in. private! alone! Ama- 
zing heroism indeed, when people are fast 
asleep, and not a puppy awake to resist 
you, to creep slily and softly into a garden 
or an orchard, and pick a few cherries or 
pears, or trample on a few harmless mel- 
on vines! How noble and nianly it is to 
sneak away from a neighbor's garden, with 
!i whole handful of stolen fruit! Alexan- 
der himself might envy the glory of such 
heroic dirty tricks ! 

But who doof it ? the boys, the boyi. 



76 THE PROMPTER. 

Yes, longlegged boys of fifteen, twenty, 
five and twenty years old. Little boys are 
usually put to bed by nine o'clock. No, 
no ; these heroic fellows are boys indeed, 
but boys of size. Sturdy fellows, these 
that put on their beaver hats and muslin 
cravats on Sunday, and must be called ge7i- 
tlemen. But hark, ye gentlemen orchard- 
robbers and cherry-stealers, would ye like 
to be caught stealing sheep or robbing a 
hen-roost? Oh no. But pray, where is the 
difference, between stealing sheep, and 
stealing fruit that a man labors several years 
to rear. I'll tell you, the sheep-stealer, is 
if possible, the less mean and criminal of 
the two. If a man has a sheep stolen, he 
can buy another as good : but if he loses 
choice fruit, he cannot replace it at least 
for a year. The fruit-stealer therefore 
does more injury than the sheep-stealer ; 
and I think the laws of the state will very 
soon put both on a level, in the peniten- 
tiary. Fine gentlemen indeed you will 
be, when making nails ; noble fellows at 
the anvil ! 



THE PBOMPTER. 77 

THE PROMPTER. 

NUMBER 27. 

Tell me a story. 

Nothing delights the child like a story ; 
a familar tale that he understands. 

Mamma, pray tell me a story, says the 
child, looking at the mother with spark- 
ling eyes. What shall I tell you ? Shall 
I tell you the story of Jack the Giant- 
Killer ? O, no ; tell me Goosy, Goosy Gan- 
der, where shall I wander. The story is 
told. Now tell me another ; tell me a 
great many stories — I love to hear stories. 

Do not smile at the little child. Great 
children love to hear stories, as well as lit- 
tle children. The princess, the duchess, 
the baron, the dandy, the mother, and the 
grandmother, the professor and the pupil, 
all love to read stories. Two hundred 
dollars offered for the best story ! Our cus- 
tomers want stories — new stories. O, for 
a Scott to tell us a story. What shall we 
do Cor stories ? 



